


Nothing Like A Lady

by coldfusion9797



Category: The Legend of Ben Hall
Genre: Australia, Bushrangers, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Historic figures, M/M, PWP, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfusion9797/pseuds/coldfusion9797
Summary: Jack likes to push the limits.





	Nothing Like A Lady

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the characters from the 2016 film The Legend of Ben Hall. It is in no way meant to reflect the possible actions/feelings of the real Ben Hall and John Gilbert.

It's like an itch, the need for attention. And it's an itch he has to scratch. It builds under his skin, and the longer they're out in the bush, the more Ben's going to cop it. Because Jack can't help himself, he has to get a reaction from someone.

But the thing about Ben is that he takes it. That's why this works, the two of them outside the law together, because Ben _likes_ him. He'd never admit to it but Jack knows, because Ben's different with him. Trusts him, respects him, values him.

"Let's go into town, Ben. Find some women." Ben's already said no about twenty times and that's why Jack has to ask again.

"I said no."

"Well I'm getting sick of looking at nothing but your miserable face all day long."

"Then shut your eyes."

Ben's being absolutely no fun.

"I'm going for a ride," Jack declares.

"Don't you go near town," Ben warns. "It's too hot for us there." 

"Yeah, yeah," Jack agrees, not because Ben said so, but because he's right. 

He mounts his buckskin, and kicks it into a gallop, going nowhere in particular, just craving the movement and the illusion of getting somewhere.

The problem with them going into town lies with possibility of them being recognised. But what if they weren't? What if no one knew who they were? With a disguise they could pass through town unnoticed. And then, a mile or so from camp, the answer comes to him. Flapping in the breeze on a settler's wash line. It's a pretty shade of lavender, someone's Sunday best, and Jack wants it. He leaves his horse by an old yellow box tree, and with the sun sinking low he slinks across the clearing and takes the dress captive. 

A hundred yards from camp he dismounts and disrobes. He's undressed enough ladies to make make short work of reversing the process. He reties his hair as neat as he can, and walks into camp, careful not to catch his hems on any twigs.

Ben's stretched out by the fire, cutting a fine figure, and Jack's careful to angle himself so the firelight doesn't give the game away. He treads on a stick, using the snap to get Ben's attention. 

"Ma'am?" Ben calls out, jumping to his feet, and it takes everything in Jack not to burst with laughter. "Is everything alright? What are you doing out here?"

He waits until Ben's close, then he spins around and plants one on Ben's lips. Ben grabs him hard and shoves him back, sticking a pistol into his ribs as he stares wide-eyed into Jack's face.

"Well this is no way to treat a lady..." And then Jack's off, laughing like a mad man, most likely because he is one.

"What the hell, Jack?" Ben barks, holstering his gun once more.

"You wouldn't come to town, so I brought town to you."

Ben frowns at him, and Jack flashes him a smile, swishing his lavender skirts. 

"Do you like it?" He plays coy, batting his eyes and pouting his lips, and Ben seems lost for words. That's no fun.

Jack steps forward, runs his hand up Ben's chest, like countless ladies have done to him before, grips his shoulder, and tiptoes up so his face is an inch from Ben's. He will get a reaction.

"What's one more broken law?" Then he kisses Ben. They've been living rough for too long now, and Ben's starved for affection like Jack is. That's why the odds aren't so long, and he's finds himself being kissed back. Ben's arms snake around him, something about the gesture catches Jack off guard, something about how it feels like the natural way of things.

Ben's tongue is in his mouth, and Jack's tongue is fighting back. Ben tastes like tea and honey, and Jack's realising more with each moment that passes that this might be the best idea he's ever had.

Ben's shoving him back, until he lands against the hard trunk of an ironbark, Ben's knee pushing between his legs to open them up.

He pushes Ben back, both of them gasping for air.

"Despite the fact that I'm wearing a dress, this doesn't work quite the same."

Ben gives him a grin, a rarity from Mr Hall, and one Jack likes very much. 

"It does for me. You're the lady in this situation."

That's the moment when Jack pauses, just for a second, as the actuality of what that means really settles on him. Ben wants to fuck him, and Jack's not about to start refusing Ben now. Not after everything they've been through and all the other requests he's consented to.

"I am."

That's all Ben needs before he's spinning Jack around, helping him out of the dress. He thought Ben might want to just hitch the skirt, fool himself he was doing this with a girl, but he pulls the garment off, and throws it aside. Without it, Jack's left naked from the waist up, his underclothes and his boots still on. Ben's got him at a disadvantage now, and Jack can't have that. He reaches out, eyes flicking up to meet Ben's big blue ones, finding nothing but encouragement there, and he starts on the buttons of Ben's shirt. He makes quick work of them, until he's looking at Ben's bare chest. Jack always liked it when a lady rubbed her hand across his skin, feeling that warm touch, so he tries it now, wondering if Ben will like it too.

It's a change to feel course hair under his palm in an intimate situation like this, but Jack doesn't mind it at all. Because this is Ben, and if there's one person he's always admired, it's this man.

Ben shrugs his shirt off completely, and manhandles Jack down to the ground, laying him out on lavender cotton. 

And that's when things take a turn. 

Ben tugs the ribbon out of Jack's hair and runs his fingers through the loose locks like they're something scared.

"You really are something else, John Gilbert." Then Ben's leaning down and kissing him again. Slower and more deliberately this time.

Jack thought when they started this that it'd be a quick fuck and a few days of awkwardness to follow. But that was stupid he realises now. Ben Hall isn't the kind of man who does anything without thinking it through. He was never gonna get carried away by his dick, so if this isn't a quick screw, what is it?

"Are you sweet on me, Ben Hall?" It's only one part teasing, to three parts genuine curiosity.

"I want to keep you around. I think I'd miss you if you weren't here."

"Definitely sweet," Jack confirms, reaching up to kiss Ben again. 

He lets his hand wander down between them, that'll be the real test about how far they are taking this. Through a layer of cotton, he finds Ben hard and ready, and gives him a squeeze to show that he's noticed.

Ben moans in his mouth before they break apart to kick off their boots, a dangerous move, but a risk worth taking. 

Ben slides his underwear down over his hips, freeing his cock, and it's big. Jack's not exactly sure where he's supposed to fit all that, but he's game for a try. 

"Jesus Christ, Ben. I better be able to ride tomorrow."

"Shut up, Jack."

"You're so romantic."

"And you've got too many clothes on."

Jack takes the hint, finishes undressing, baring all for Ben. Kneeling opposite each other, they both take stock.

Here's the part where it gets tricky. 

"Have you done this before?" Ben asks, surveying him like he would a bank he's about to rob. Looking for the best way in. 

"No. Can't be all that different though, can it?" 

A devilish grin slides onto Ben's face.

"You'll have to tell me." 

Jack reflects the grin back at him.

"Just give it a go and we'll improvise. Usually works."

"Alright. Turn around."

Jack does, and immediately that ups his excitement, sets his heart to racing even harder, twists his belly up with burning heat. He feels Ben's hands slide over his hips, down his arse, exposing his most private place. It's not an embarrassment, because Ben already shares all his secrets.

He hears Ben spit to slick himself up, and then Ben's adding another crime to their long list of sins.

He feels like he's being ripped open, but he can't be. He trusts Ben, and knows he'll stop if he needs to, so Jack bears down and takes the pain like a man.

"Christ, Jack," Ben puffs. "It's nothing like fucking a lady. I see why men are willing to hang for this."

Ben must be having an altogether different experience from the one Jack is.

"I'll have to take your bloody word for that," Jack grinds out.

"Is it too much?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Get on with it."

Ben does, and Jack's relieved to find the pain subsides the longer Ben works him.

His own tallywacker is standing neglected, but he needs both hands to brace against what Ben's doing to him.

Eventually, he can't take any more of Ben getting the best end of the deal, _and_ getting to being in charge. He pulls away, turns around, and shoves Ben down, so he's on his back, laid out on offer for him.

"What..." Ben begins, but Jack makes his meaning clear soon enough, when he throws a leg over Ben like a proper tart, and sinks down on him. This way, he can set the rhythm, and reach his own cock too.

And it adds another unexpected layer. Like this he can see Ben's face. See what every expression that plays across his handsome face looks like. He loves seeing Ben undone like this, feels privileged to be the only man to have ever witnessed it.

He shifts a little for a better view and on the next stroke down, Ben really hits the mark. He's heard stories about a place that lady's sometimes use to get a rise out of a bloke that isn't performing. Of course, he's never had that problem himself, but whores make jokes about slipping fingers into cracks.

Well this must be what they're talking about because he finds himself spilling his load soon after.

His whole body tightens with it, and then Ben's shooting a load up inside him.

They ride the crest together, and when they come down Jack falls beside Ben, naked in the leaf litter, laughing like a mad man again.

Even Ben manages a little cheer.

"You might be in the wrong line of work, Jack. Ever think of taking up in a whore house? You'd make more in a year than we ever could robbing stages."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was intended as one."

"Oh Ben," Jack gushes, rolling onto his side, fluttering his eyelashes at him, while ignoring the little twigs that poke into his bare skin. "You are a romantic."

Ben doesn't deny it, just leans in and presses his lips to Jack's. It's sweet and chaste, and says something more than 'thanks for the fuck.' His eyes do too when he pulls back and looks into Jack's.

"What can I say, Jack? You bring out the worst in me."

It's true, and Jack's more than happy owning to that.

"What would you do without me?"

Instead of answering, Ben slaps him on the thigh and gets back to business.

"Come on, get dressed. Never know when the traps might show up."

And if that isn't romance at it's finest, then nothing ever was.

**Author's Note:**

> I am alone on Christmas Eve eve and this happened. Sometimes I concern myself, but thanks for reading anyway.


End file.
